


Summer Lightning

by vondrostes



Series: Canon-Compliant Jackrry [3]
Category: Dunkirk (2017), Dunkirk (2017) RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Hotdogging, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, despite the excerpt there are no kilts to be found
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vondrostes/pseuds/vondrostes
Summary: “Have to make sure you get your fill of the sights before we send you back to England. Or America. Wherever the fuck.”“You act like I haven’t ever been to Scotland before,” Harry grumbled. “You were the one who missed out on ‘the sights’ when I was in Glasgow.”“Ah yes, the kilt. You’ll just have to wear it again for me sometime, won’t you?”Harry grinned. “Maybe next time. I’ll go true Scotsman, even. Just for you.”





	Summer Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Cherry Styles & Little Stars, based on a photo from Jack's Instagram in which you can see a pink hydroflask on the ground (which is what inspired me to write about Harry taking the photo). This can also be read as a standalone since each fic is just a separate moment in the same universe.

“You know,” Harry remarked as they walked along the next uphill slope, grunting a little in exertion with every step, “you didn’t have to pick the hardest hike just to impress me.”

Jack snorted and waited for Harry to move out of the way so he could scramble up the rocks after him. They’d gone off the main trail about an hour ago, opting instead to take the scenic route through the hills before looping back around. They were nearly at the beginning of the path again, but there was one overlook Jack had wanted to show Harry while he was in the Borders.

But Harry didn’t make it that far. He plopped down on his bum right in the middle of the path about halfway up the hill, pouting up at Jack with his chest heaving. “I’m too tired to keep going.”

Jack stared back at him in disbelief. “But the overlook’s right there.”

“I can’t go any further,” Harry replied petulantly. “You’ll have to carry me.”

Jack rolled his eyes and crouched down so Harry could climb on his back. They had luckily not brought much equipment with them, and Harry, despite his height, couldn’t have weighed more than a feather. Dasha ran circles around Jack’s ankles, intrigued by the change.

“Better?” Jack grunted once Harry was settled on his back with his arms and legs wrapped tightly around Jack’s neck and waist.

Harry hummed in the affirmative and licked Jack’s ear, making him jump. “Giddy-up,” he ordered, and Jack had the distinct feeling that if Harry had been able to let go without falling, he would have slapped Jack’s arse for effect.

“I’m not actually a horse, you know,” Jack told him as he slowly marched the last hundred yards to the top.

“Shame,” Harry said. “I was so looking forward to riding you later.”

Jack nearly dropped him. “Don’t tease me now,” he whined, already feeling his trousers getting a little tighter in response to just the thought of Harry on top of him. “We’ve still got another hour’s walk ahead of us.”

Harry laughed into the crook of his neck, which only made Jack’s situation that much worse. But Harry remained quiet for the rest of the walk, apparently content to just take in their surroundings from his perch, while Jack’s focus remained on reaching the hilltop as quickly as possible.

Jack was still in a state of shock over the fact that Harry was even here at all. He hadn’t expected Harry’s invitation to come stay with him in Los Angeles for a bit before was due back in the theatre. He’d regretfully declined, explaining that he’d already told his maw he was coming back home to visit for a bit the same weekend. Harry had turned right around and invited himself to Scotland instead, and who was Jack to say no?

Jack had introduced Harry to his family as a friend, his presence easily explained thanks to their working history. Neither one of their families knew there was anything more to their relationship, and both were content to keep it that way for now.

Harry was an awfully accommodating guest. He kept trying to help Jack’s mother with the cooking and washing up, and every time Jack would have to steer him away into doing something else. He’d been eager to come with when Jack had mentioned his hiking plans; Jack was glad to have him.

Until now, that is.

“You could have eaten a lighter breakfast, you know,” Jack muttered as he endured the last bit of the climb before dumping Harry unceremoniously onto the grass.

Harry landed on his arse and laughed, flushed prettily and breathless as he sat sprawled out on the ground while Jack set down the rest of their things in a neat pile next to him.

It was cold for September, the temperature dropping rapidly despite the fact that summer had yet to meet its official end. Harry was appropriately bundled up in a puffy coat and one of Jack’s beanies, his curls poking out the bottom on every side now that he’d started to grow out his hair.

“Why did you stop cutting it?” Jack asked out of the blue, realising too late that Harry hadn’t heard the beginning of his train of thought.

He looked confused for a split second before catching on. “I liked it better long,” Harry replied, touching a hand almost reflexively to the ends of his hair before lowering it again. “Would’ve grown it out sooner if it had been up to me.”

“It wasn’t up to you what to do with your own hair?” Jack asked incredulously.

Harry frowned. “Not entirely.”

Jack decided not to pursue that. “Up you go, then,” he said, reaching down to take Harry’s clammy hand to help him back up. “Have to make sure you get your fill of the sights before we send you back to England. Or America. Wherever the fuck.”

“You act like I haven’t ever been to Scotland before,” Harry grumbled. “You were the one who missed out on ‘the sights’ when I was in Glasgow.”

“Ah yes, the kilt. You’ll just have to wear it again for me sometime, won’t you?”

Harry grinned. “Maybe next time. I’ll go true Scotsman, even. Just for you.”

Jack shook his head and steered Harry over to the fence lining the side of the hill on which there was somewhat of a sheer drop. He pushed Harry up against the fence with his hips, pressing them back-to-chest as Jack pointed out everything there was to see about the hills on the Scottish border.

“See the burn down there,” Jack said, gesturing over Harry’s shoulder to indicate the winding crevasse between the hills. “She’s a real beauty early in the summer.”

Harry hummed contemplatively. “Shame I missed it.”

“Well, you were doing more important things.”

Harry turned his head to stare at Jack with smouldering eyes. “I can think of things I would’ve rather been doing.”

Jack scoffed. “It’s a wonder you get anything done with how much you think about sex.”

“You didn’t give me enough time to wank this morning before we left,” Harry retorted, the pout returning to his face. It practically lived there, at least when Jack was around.

Jack glanced back down the path from where they’d come, making sure there was nobody in sight. They were alone, with the exception of Dasha, who blinked up at Jack with curious eyes. Jack sighed. “Go play, Dash,” he cajoled, trying to shoo the dog away for a bit, just so he wouldn’t have to endure the mortification of knowing she had witnessed what he was about to do.

Harry watched Jack with a soft smile as he eventually gave up on trying to get the dog to leave of her own accord. He instead leashed Dasha to a fencepost just out of sight before returning to his position behind Harry at top of the hill.

“Poor puppy,” Harry said faux concern as Jack sidled into him once more.

“She’ll live,” Jack replied. “Rather have her sit in time-out for a few minutes than be traumatised by what I’m about to do to you.”

“Oh? You’re planning on doing something, then?”

“Aye,” Jack said right before snaking a hand down into the front of Harry’s trousers.

The younger man jolted a little in surprise at the suddenness of Jack’s cold hand wrapping around his cock, but then he relaxed into the touch with a sigh.

“Better?” Jack asked as the wind picked up, whipping across his face so hard that it stung. He buried his nose in the back of Harry’s neck instead, inhaling the salty tang of his sweat as he quickly coaxed Harry to full hardness.

“Mhmm.”

The little breaths that punched out of Harry’s throat on every upstroke had Jack responding in kind. He pushed up against the small swell of Harry’s arse, grinding hard to get any kind of friction through the multiple layers of fabric.

“Wish I could fuck you right here,” Jack breathed into Harry’s ear. “Wish I could bend you over this fence right now and get inside you.”

Harry’s head dropped down to his chest as he bit back an answering cry. He fumbled behind himself even as Jack continued to pull him off, struggling to get his hands between them so he could tug down the waistband of his trousers to just below the curve of his arse.

“Harry, I’m not actually going to—” Jack started to say, his hand slowing.

“No, just—” Harry made a little frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “Between—want you to—”

Jack caught on and released his hold on Harry’s cock just long enough to get his own trousers down around his thighs. He knew it would be the worst thing in the world if they were spotted, if god forbid, someone snapped a photo, but with his dick riding against the soft skin between Harry’s cheeks, Jack couldn’t bring himself to give a damn about the consequences.

The nice thing about foreskin was that neither of them even needed lube for this, the combination of their sweat and pre-come easing the way as Jack continued to wank off Harry while furiously rutting against his arse. Harry was practically dripping onto the grass, soaking Jack’s hand to the point where he was vaguely worried he might have explain to his maw later why he’d come back with pruny fingers on just his left hand.

That worry was inconsequential for as long as Jack still had Harry’s prick in his hand. He panted hard against the younger man’s neck, overwhelmed by the knowledge that Harry was so turned on by what they were doing it made him fucking leak.

“Love how wet you get,” Jack groaned into the curve of his shoulder. He reached down with his other hand to cup Harry’s balls, squeezing his cock even harder as he worked him over, bucking up against his back with bestial abandon when he felt Harry’s cock jump in his hand, his balls pulsing as he spilled out against the fence, drops of white staining the dark wood and splattering onto the grass.

Jack waited until Harry had finished before pulling his hands back to settle them on his hips, smearing Harry’s own slick against his pale skin as Jack’s fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. Harry leaned forward, grabbing hold of the fence to brace himself as Jack thrust even harder into the cleft of his arse, catching the tip of his cock on Harry’s hole on every other stroke.

He came hard and sheathed his cock within the warmth of Harry’s cheeks, using his hands to press them together like a sleeve as he rode out the aftershocks with shallow thrusts that painted Harry’s backside white. They were going to have a rough go of it cleaning up.

They ended up sacrificing Jack’s t-shirt, leaving him in just his jacket after he’d stripped off in the middle of the roaring wind so Harry could wipe off. Jack did the same and then bundled the shirt up in a ball to take care of later.

“Better go get the dog,” he said, stepping away from Harry regretfully.

Jack could never shake the feeling that anytime he let Harry out of his sight, the next time he turned around again, he’d be gone. He wasn’t sure where the fear had come from, or why he couldn’t seem to get it out of his head.

But Harry was standing right where Jack had left him when he returned with Dasha, who seemed only mildly put-out by being left to her own devices for a few minutes.

“Back to the house?” Jack suggested.

Harry nodded and pulled up the collar of his jacket to try and spare his face the worst of the wind. Jack knew he wasn’t prone to getting cold that easily, but he also knew that Harry had an equally difficult time getting his body temperature back up once it finally dipped below what was still comfortable.

Jack made a mental note to text his maw once they had service again to have her put the kettle on for when they got back.

Harry sniffed and stepped forward to grab Jack’s hands. “One last look, yeah?” he said before turning back around to take in the view.

Jack watched him instead.

“You know out here,” he said suddenly, the words falling from his lips unbidden as he stared at Harry’s silhouette framed against the endless Scottish landscape, swept up in the feeling of being cut off completely from civilisation even though they weren’t more than an hour from home, “no one would even know you.”

Harry turned to look at Jack with a wry smile. “Is this you trying to convince me to move to Scotland to become a hermit?”

He shrugged. “No, I’m just saying that if you ever need a break from it all, you’ve got options.”

Harry’s smile softened, and he nodded in acknowledgement of what Jack’s statement really was: a standing invitation. “Thanks.”

They left shortly after that, heading down the other side of the hill back toward the main path. They walked in near silence, neither one wanting to disturb the gentle peace surrounding them now that the wind had subsided. Jack knew it wouldn’t last long, and he was grateful they’d gotten up so early once he noticed the storm-clouds rolling in from the west.

Surprisingly, Harry was the first to break the silence. “You usually take a picture, right?” he said a little while later, just as they finally approached the crossroads with the trail leading back to Jack’s car.

Jack shrugged again. “Usually. Wasn’t planning on it this time since you came with.”

“I could take the picture for you,” Harry offered.

Jack hesitated, and then nodded. “All right.” He set down their things at the bottom of the sign and handed Harry his phone. “I don’t really know how to pose,” he confessed as Dasha sniffed curiously at Harry’s bright pink flask, which had rolled out of his bag when Jack had put it down.

Harry handed the phone right back. “Just take your own picture,” he said, “whatever you want. I’ll take one of you and send it so you can post.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed. He did his best to look unself-conscious as Harry lined up the photo while he snapped his own pictures of the countryside, Dasha roaming around at his feet in interest all the while. “Got it?” Jack asked a few seconds later, when he saw Harry put his phone back down out of the corner of his eye.

Harry nodded.

“C’mere then,” Jack wheedled, gesturing for Harry to come closer.

He did, albeit with a confused look on his face. “Oh, Jack,” he whined once he saw his own face on the screen of Jack’s phone.

“Just smile, all right? I won’t send it to anyone.”

Harry bashed his forehead into the side of Jack’s face like a cat. “How about this instead?” he asked, before pressing his lips to the corner of Jack’s mouth.

Jack quickly snapped the picture, and then dropped his phone, taking hold of Harry’s jaw with both hands to kiss him hard. If anyone was around to see them, Jack didn’t care.


End file.
